


Old Clothes; Do Not Open

by OnlyAugustine



Series: Play Dates; The Adventures of Little!Steve and Daddy!Sam [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pre-Daddy!Sam, little!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyAugustine/pseuds/OnlyAugustine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are these your old clothes?” Sam asks conversationally, as if this isn’t the scariest moment of Steve’s life. Steve just shakes his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Clothes; Do Not Open

**Author's Note:**

> This series will not be linear. This is the story of Steve telling Sam that he is little.

Steve knew his leg was bouncing under the table. It was making the whole table, as well as everything on it, vibrate slightly and it was probably annoying Sam, but he somehow couldn’t make himself stop. It was a nervous habit and, along with biting at his nails, was one he’d always had and wished he’d hadn’t. Steve had never like having obvious tells.

It wasn't until Sam reached out his hand and placed it on Steve’s knee that Steve stopped and smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend.

They’re at Steve’s apartment in DC. Of all of his homes; his floor wide apartment in Stark Tower, his flat in Brooklyn, his semi-shared living space at the compound- the DC apartment is where he feels the most comfortable. He’d specifically chosen this apartment for their dinner because he doesn't think he could've had this conversation under JARVIS’ watchful gaze, or in his brooklyn flat where everything is still too different. Steve is regretting his choice now. The draw of DC had always been that it was already distant from Steve. There were no missing connections, no holes left in the space around him where the people and things he loved once stood. If Sam dumps him and storms out of this place, Steve doesn’t think he could come back here.

“Steve, is everything okay?” Sam asks, gently, as if Steve might startle. Steve puts down his fork from where he’d been pushing a helping of peas around into shapes. He’d been forming a pretty convincing star when Sam had spoken. Steve takes a deep breath and nods.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just -wanted to talk to you.” he says, his voice unusually shaky. _Get it together, Rogers,_ he tells himself. Steve doesn't want to look up at Sam. His _boyfriend._ His sweet, caring, funny, tolerant, totally sane _boyfriend_ , who Steve _loves_ and does not want to scare away with all of his crazy.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?” Sam asks, taking his hand off Steve’s knee and placing it over Steve’s own hand. Steve winces. _Now or never, Rogers,_ his subconscious chides, and, even though a very substantial part of him is screaming _NEVER,_ Steve nods.

“Uh, yeah. There’s -uh- something that you don’t know. About me.” Steve starts, clenching his fist under Sam’s hand. With his other hand, he brings his thumb up to his mouth and nibbles at the tip of his nail. He wants desperately to slip it past his lips and suck at the flesh there, but under Sam’s gaze, he doesn't dare.

“Okay,” Sam says, “-and you want to tell me what it is?”

“Y-yeah. I do.” Steve says, then pulls his thumb from his mouth and rubs a tired hand over his face. “Uh, I don’t know where to start.”

“Could you try just saying whatever it is? Start with telling me directly, then go back and fill in the details.” Sam coaxes. Steve knows he’s talking in his therapy voice, all slow and gentle. Steve is so grateful to have such a great guy in his life. _God Dammit!_  He can’t do this! It’s selfish and stupid and he should stop-

“I -uh- I do this...thing.” _Great start, Rogers._

Sam nods.

“It’s...hard to explain what it is.” Steve says with a sigh. Sam has abandoned his meatloaf at this point, and is shifting closer to Steve.

“Is it an illegal thing?” Sam asks, and Steve shakes his head.

“No. It’s not illegal! It’s just...weird.”

“Is it a sex thing?” Sam asks boldly, and Steve jumps.

“No! No. I mean, maybe for some people, but not for me. It’s just...for fun.” Steve says. If his face wasn’t already bright red, it is now. Sam puts his hands up, and shrugs.

“I was just asking to help you out. You know I wouldn't judge you for things like that if it was.”

“I know,” Steve says, and he does. Sam is understanding and kind, and if Steve just tells him, he probably wouldn’t even freak out. At least, he probably wouldn’t freak out that much. Steve takes a deep breath and says,

“I have a bunny.”

Sam looks at him a little funny, although he’s clearly trying not to.

“Not a real bunny, like, a fake bunny. A stuffed bunny!” Steve says hurriedly by way of explanation. God, he’s such an idiot. He’d practiced explaining this to Sam about a hundred times while making this meatloaf. He had practically written a speech, but seeing Sam, it had all gone out the window.

“Oh, Okay.” Sam says, waiting for Steve to continue.  

“That’s not all.” Steve murmurs. His hands are both back in his lap now, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Sam sighs fondly.

"Baby, whatever it is, It’s not going to upset me. Whatever it is you’re so embarrassed about, I’ve heard worse and thought no less of the people who told me. It’s my job to listen.”

Steve sighs, exasperated with himself.

“I know, Sam. I know. It’s just hard to talk about. I want to tell you because- well, actually I don’t really know why- but I’ve never told anyone before.”

Steve means that. No one else knows. It’s not like he’s really done it for long, even less time if you don’t count the time before he had a name for this. Even still. He’d never left a comment on those internet forums or visited any of those blogs twice. Steve supposes that JARVIS may have been monitoring his internet activity but it seems like he has better things to do -running the tower and looking after Tony.

If Steve tells Sam, this will be the first time he’s let another person into his safe space. It’s terrifying, but Steve wants so badly another person to understand this about him.

Steve thinks about the box in his closet, and bites his lip.

“Maybe I could show you, if that's okay?”

Sam nods encouragingly.

“If that would make it easier, go ahead.”

Steve stands shakily and doesn't look at Sam as he turns out of the kitchen. Once in his bedroom, Steve doesn't let himself pause to reconsider. He opens his closet, takes out the cardboard box (back corner, with the words _OLD CLOTHES. DO NOT OPEN._ scribbled in big black marker on the side. It doesn't contain old clothes.) He sets it down on the bed and peers inside. On the very top, he had a folded up sweater to make it look more realistic. He knows that it wouldn’t fool an actual spy, but it makes him feel better.

He takes out the sweater and lays it on the bed. Underneath the sweater, he has a set of blocks, a tub of little plastic animals, a sippy cup, a big pack of crayons, and Bun. He also has two little pacifiers in a sandwich baggie, but he decides that’s too much, and leaves them behind. He hardly uses them anyway and doesn’t think he can handle what Sam’s reaction might be to those. Steve supposes that it’s okay to keep a few secrets for yourself, anyway.

Steve surveys the contents of his box one last time, reaches in and gives Bun’s paw a squeeze, lifts the box, and walks out of the room.

The box feels heavy, even in his super-soldier arms, and his heart is beating a thousand miles a minute. Carefully, he brings it over and balances the box on the edge of the table, still holding it protectively. After a raised eyebrow from Sam, Steve lets the box go with a little push toward the center of the table.

“This is it.” Steve says, and Sam nods, but doesn’t make any moves to open it. After a brief second of silence between the two men, Sam stands and reaches out a hand toward the box.

“Are these your old clothes?” Sam asks conversationally, as if this isn’t the scariest moment of Steve’s life. Steve just shakes his head.

Sam opens the box one flap at a time, and Steve holds his breath. He can’t look away from Sam’s face now, and he sees the exact moment when Sam registers what he’s looking at. Sam reaches into the box and pulls out Bun, his soft body cradled between Sam’s hands, surprisingly -and thankfully, a part of Steve notes- gentle with him.

“Oh. A bunny.” Sam says simply. He doesn’t sound disappointed or grossed out, though. More like he was just now understanding what this was. Sam looks up to meet Steve’s eyes and smiles warmly at him. Steve doesn’t say anything, but holds out his own hands to take Bun, and Sam hands him over. Steve wants to cradle Bun to his chest, wants to bury his face against Bun’s ears and take comfort in his familiar smell, but he doesn’t, just squeezes him a little between his palms and sets him gently on the table.

The next thing Sam pulls out is the clear tub of animals. He doesn’t open it, just peers through the plastic and gives it a little shake before setting it down alongside Bun. He pulls out the crayons next, and repeats the same process of examining them interestedly and then setting them on the table. He doesn’t take out every block in the box, much to Steve’s gratitude, but Sam does pick one out and turn it over a few times in his hands to examine the numbers and letters on each side. The last thing Sam lifts up is the sippy cup. Steve has to look away when Sam does. He doesn’t know why he thought it was a good idea to leave that in there.

Sam is clearly a little confused, but not concerned or hostile. When Sam sets the cup down, Steve grabs it and moves it behind the box and out of sight.  Neither one of them says anything for a while.

Sam sits back down to survey the toys on the table and Steve tries not to vibrate out of his skin. He doesn’t know if he’s going to vomit or cry or pass out from lack of oxygen, but something has to give and if Sam doesn’t say anything soon, Steve will just-

“Tell me about this.” Sam says, waving a hand over Steve’s treasures. Steve swallows and nods, but doesn’t answer right away. He reaches out a hand and picks Bun up as casually as he can make himself, and sets Bun on his lap. Even this kind of small, vulnerable display feels scary and new to Steve, but he holds his ground and lets out a long breath.

“I mean,” Steve starts, “It seems kinda’ self-explanatory.”

Sam doesn’t say anything else, just waits, presumably, for Steve to explain anyway.

Steve waves his hand over his things on the table, but doesn’t know what to say. He had thought that words would just come to him if he actually got this far, but honestly he was expecting Sam to storm out the door three awkward coughs ago. With a resigned sigh, Steve drops his eyes down to meet Bun’s and says,

“It just makes me happy. It’s all so innocent and simple. I know it’s weird and kinda’ messed up, but when I get to be” and Steve pauses for a second because he was about to say _When I get to be little_ which is a word Steve has never described himself with out loud. Instead he continues with “-When I get to be a kid, sorta, It’s like I get to take a break from all the shit in my life and just...relax.”

Sam nods. His expression is carefully gentle, which does little to calm Steve’s nerves. The ball is in Sam’s court now. Steve said what he had to say and now Sam knows. Sam knows that Steve likes coloring with crayons and snuggling with Bun and drinking grape juice from sippy cups.

 Steve watches as Sam straightens up, then -instead of yelling, or dumping Steve, or calling him a freak- Sam reaches out a single finger and pokes Bun in the fuzzy cheek. With a happy and genuine smile, Sam says

“So what’s this little guy’s name?”

And Steve knows everything is going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave comments and kudos if you like these stories! I love hearing your feedback and every Kudos puts a smile on my face! <3


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